Great St. Bernard Pass Journal; This Time, It's the Faithful Hero That Needs the Rescue

By IAN FISHER

Published: October 29, 2004

The only dog right now at the 950-year-old hospice of St. Bernard is a very nice golden retriever named Justy.

The issue of those other dogs -- the famously huge and heroic ones, who toted brandy barrels in legend, who lived here for centuries and sniffed scores of stranded travelers out of the snow -- is not one that the Rev. Fr?ric Gaillard is keen to talk about.

''Now there are helicopters,'' Father Gaillard, one of four remaining monks at the St. Bernard's hospice here, said with some irritation. ''And we have a golden retriever, which is our dog for avalanches. This is not the 1800's. This is not the 1900's. Since then, helicopters and other fast ways to save people have been introduced.''

After a few moments more of explanation, it was as if the frigid cloud shrouding this ancient alpine pass, elevation 8,114 feet, slipped inside. Father Gaillard declared the subject of the St. Bernards of St. Bernard closed.

''I am not talking anymore about the dogs,'' he said.

In fairness, it is hard to blame him. Last month, it became public that the monks here were looking for a buyer for the 18 St. Bernards that still belong to the hospice, news that struck the European press as if Switzerland itself were disowning chocolate or, oh, secret bank accounts. Dog lovers worried that the descendants of the dogs who gave the breed its name -- and this nation a symbol -- might be put down or not find proper homes.

Since then, Father Gaillard has been fielding up to 15 calls a day from reporters around the world and, judging by his mood this morning, getting crankier with every call. He barked on for a minute that the American election ought to worry people more than Swiss dogs, and, at any rate, he said, only the dogs' ownership will change.

According to the plan, the monks and dogs will go on as they have for decades, with the dogs still spending summers up here -- still on view for thousands of tourists. They will still spend winters, as they have for decades, away from the bitter cold and snow that was such a killer for pilgrims to Rome, and soldiers and merchants passing over the Alps. (Which explains why, with the treacherous road here already officially closed for the winter, it was only Justy basking in the warm kitchen smells in the hospice).

''I don't think there will be any change for people to see,'' Father Gaillard said.

The winter home for the St. Bernards of St. Bernard is the quaint village of Martigny, down the mountain from the pass. On a recent morning, the aptly named Bernard L?r was playing with some of the 16 newly born St. Bernard puppies, fluffy and achingly cute, at a kennel that belongs to the monks. For the last five years, Mr. L?r, 41, has been the chief breeder, producing about 30 puppies a year, which are sold to people around the world willing to pay a premium, about $1,700, for a real St. Bernard.

He is clearly in love with the dogs, not least Tasso, remarkably mellow for his 150 pounds, who sat by his side. He is not so sure the monks share that love.

''The people around the world think how nice a story -- monks, dogs, avalanches,'' he said. ''But if you think, 'Monks and dogs, how nice,' it's not true. The monks don't like the dogs. They don't caress them. No, no.''

Given Father Gaillard's mood, it did not seem wise to ask him directly about caresses. But he said the monks' decision to sell the dogs stemmed from the reality that it was increasingly difficult to take care of them, especially since the number of monks here is declining. The dogs each eat four to five pounds of food a day, and big, energetic dogs like that need to get out of their pens four times a day.

Whatever their joint history -- the earliest mention of St. Bernard dogs at this hospice stretches back to 1695 -- Father Gaillard said the St. Augustine monks here are still a functioning religious order, and that the dogs are distracting them from their work of ministering to actual people. The hospice, founded by St. Bernard himself in 1050, predates the dogs.

''We think it's better to spend more of our time listening to people and not just them,'' he said, apparently meaning the dogs. ''They take up too much energy. It's people that need us, and that's not well understood.''

Mr. L?r had to admit that, in some ways, technology has outstripped the need for the dogs. While they were once unparalleled in helping people through the pass -- some 200,000 soldiers reportedly crossed without a single one lost during the Napoleonic wars between 1790 and 1810 -- they have not actively worked in rescues for at least 50 years.

''I use German shepherds and labradors when there is an avalanche,'' said Mr. L?r, who is also a member of the local rescue squad. ''They are quicker and lighter, and I can fit them in the helicopter.''

What complicates the issue here is that symbols often turn into money makers. Local signs, stores and tour buses are emblazoned with the friendly and inviting image of St. Bernards -- and tourism is the region's most important business. So it made sense that the monks turned to Pierrot Troillet, the head of a local tourism organization, to be their spokesman and the man handling the delicate sale.

Mr. Troillet said the details have not yet been worked out, but it is hoped that they will be able to sell the dogs to a charitable foundation, and there are already some potential candidates. The prospective new owners, he said, would merely take over the administration of the dogs, the kennel, their breeding, care and puppy sales. All else would remain exactly as it is, and continue to attract tourists.

Jean-Yves Richard, 34, is one person who hopes that this balance between reality and symbol tilts more toward the latter. He said he understood if the monks could not handle the dogs anymore. But still, he runs three small businesses near the pass -- a gas station, a restaurant and gift shop -- that sell all sorts of dog paraphernalia.

''St. Bernard and St. Bernard dogs have to stay together,'' he said. ''We are used to seeing them. We can't think of them disappeared from here.''

Photos: The Rev. Frédéric Gaillard is one of four monks left at the St. Bernard's hospice. Since they announced plans to sell their last 18 St. Bernards, he has had to assure the press that the beloved dogs will be well cared for. (Photo by Ruben Sprich/Reuters); One of 16 puppies, now kept at their winter home at Martigny. (Photo by Dino Fracchia for The New York Times)

Map of Switzerland highlighting Great St. Bernard Pass: Monks at Great St. Bernard Pass trained dogs for rescues in snow.